


Confrontation and Resolution

by SparkleTindi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Inquisition- Trespasser
Genre: Gen, Trespasser Spoilers, but there's some serious injuries in this, i do tend to err on the side of caution when i rate things, it's really hard to tag this without spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleTindi/pseuds/SparkleTindi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my extended version of the conversation between Solas and my Inquisitor at the end of Trespasser. AS SUCH: SPOILERS. ALL OF THEM. GO FINISH TRESPASSER. This'll be here when you get back. I love getting responses six months later; it makes me do a happy dance in my desk chair. I've fixed the title (that was seriously just a placeholder)</p><p>If you're still here, please leave comments. I love comments. I even love "you misspelled that word there" comments, because it means you read it. :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confrontation and Resolution

“The Anchor is killing you, Inquisitor.”

“Yes, Solas, I am well aware of that.” Green eyes narrow, Isaura Lavellan-Rutherford straightened, ignoring the redoubled pain in her arm. “While I am grateful for the new tricks, Fen’Harel,” she noted with grim satisfaction the flinch on her former companion’s face when she used the name the Dalish had given him, “I don’t think you did _any_ of this on purpose.”

“I told you—“

Isaura cut him off. “I know. Grand plan, end the world, leaving the _animals_ ,” Solas flinched again, “to die in comfort. I heard. However. You need this. I can tell you need this.” She held up her arm. “I’m draining your power, aren’t I?”

She knew he wouldn’t stay silent; he was not capable of not filling silences with his acerbic observations. After spending however long they’d been out here learning about what had happened, Isaura understood why. She did pity the being before her, in a way. She knew true companionship, because she had embraced the differences between herself and her friends; The three on the other side of this last eluvian could and would stand between her and the end of the world. After all, they had before.

At one point, Isaura had thought Solas was of the same kind, one who had his own quirks, some more annoying than others, but still someone who would have her back. His departure at the destruction of the orb had bitten more deeply than the Inquisitor cared to admit. After all that they had been through together, he’d just _left_. Been his usual cryptic, gnomic self, apologized for, as it turned out, not killing everyone cleanly the first damn time, and left.

And now she found out that, instead of coming back himself, he’d set spies in her Inquisition, probably people that she’d trusted for years. Charter was going to be furious, and Solas had better hope Leliana couldn’t find a way to the Crossroads, because she would be downright murderous.

All of these thoughts flashed by as she waited. Finally, as she’d known he would, Solas spoke. “I could kill you and just take the power. Don’t think that I could not.” His eyes were sad, and Isaura hated herself for the sympathy she felt. “I do not want to kill you, Inquisitor.”

“Yet,” Isaura replied quietly. “I am part of the world you are working to destroy, Solas.”

“I would have you die in relative peace and happiness,” he pointed out. “You have your commander to return to, after all.”

“Do _not_ use Cullen as leverage to get what you want,” Isaura said, voice harsh. “I am well aware that I have someone to go home to. But even if he didn’t hate me for it, I would hate myself for just letting you do whatever you want just to save my own hide.”

“How, exactly, are you planning on stopping me? Your people count mine as gods.”

“You’re the one who said the Evanuris were as mortal as we are,” Isaura said quietly. “Did you think I wasn’t listening when you told me things, Solas? As you reshaped everything I had grown up knowing? I never accused you of lying, did I? I probably should have, because you did lie to me a lot.” The Anchor flared again, and, instead of trying to earth the power, Isaura lifted her hand, pointing it at the sky. A flare of bright green arced away, and the area around them rumbled. “ _Stop doing that_ ,” she gritted out around the pain.

“ _I’m_ not doing it; you’re not made to contain that sort of power, Isaura.” For the first time in their acquaintance, Solas used her given name. He was obviously worried. “I have already admitted that a number of things happened that I did not expect when Corypheus unlocked the orb. Your Anchor is one of those things. It is my power, yes, but in a form that I cannot control.”

“There are a _whole lot_ of things you cannot control,” Isaura said, shaking. She remembered her Keeper, Deshanna, telling her about abominations and how a demon could start as an insinuating thought… or maybe a mark on your hand. She also remembered those who had been in Kirkwall talking about Anders/Vengeance. The spirit Anders had called “Justice” only gained the upper hand when Anders was emotionally overwrought. She had to calm down.

It was hard to make herself calm down; Isaura was _so angry_. She knew she had good reasons to be, but she also knew that this anger was going to kill her. “You did do something to it,” she said, keeping her voice level. “It was quiet, and then it suddenly started getting worse again.”

“The power, as you said, originated with me,” Solas explained. “As I continued to try to find a different way to shatter the Veil, having lost my orb, the power probably resonated with you. I do apologize for that; you have to believe that I never meant to hurt you.”

“The Anchor is nothing compared to the betrayal, Dread Wolf,” Isaura said, and she felt her throat close, not with rage, but with sorrow. “We were _friends_ , Solas. I would have stood with you against the armies of the faithful just because you were my friend, and you _used me_.”

“Do you know how wearying it is to walk your magicless world?” he retorted, and she snorted. “You know nothing better because you were born to it. Your people, both mages and elves, are shunned by people who have no idea what this world was supposed to be. How can you be defending this, Inquisitor?” He made her title like an accusation, but Isaura’s gaze stayed level.

“Considering the alternative, I think I’ll keep trying to improve my world, rather than breaking it and starting over like a spoiled child,” Isaura said, voice cool. “You created it, and now you want to destroy it,” she retorted. “How does that make you better than the Evanuris you locked away?”

Solas’ eyes flared, much as they had when he’d turned the Qunari to stone, but Isaura didn’t so much as flinch. It _was_ creepy, watching the blue turn adamantine, but she’d seen worse. Giant fucking Fade spiders that weren’t really spiders, for one; she’d also seen Envy destroy everything she cared about. “And what happens when Nightmare is unleashed back into the world, or Envy, or any of the other really powerful spirits who have learned from the humans and the diminished elves instead of staying static?” she demanded instead of backing down. “ _Everything changes, Solas_. You can’t get back what was lost.”

“You told me that you tried to make the world as you wished it to be, and kept trying if it didn’t turn out right,” the demigod shot back. “How is what I am doing any different? Many of my friends were killed outright when I destroyed their world.” He gestured around at the ruins of the Crossroads. “Many more died in the aftermath. All I want to do is fix that.”

“You _can’t_ ,” Isaura said again, now gentle. “I’m not saying you’re not allowed, because you’re right: what can we do to stop you? I’m saying it’s not possible any more. You cannot bring back the dead, and you can’t just wave your hands and make this not have happened. When I told you that, I also said you have to work with the world, not just crashing through it trying to fix everything by force. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t support Leliana when she wanted to become the Divine: She thought she could just snap her fingers and people’s minds would be changed, whether they wanted to be or not. People don’t work like that, and I’m pretty sure _your_ friends didn’t, either.”

“They killed Mythal, so I destroyed everything,” Solas said quietly, sitting heavily on an upraised paver. “I was a child having a tantrum.”

“That tantrum created the Thedas we live in now,” Isaura said, sitting next to him. “As annoying as mortals are, we have done some pretty amazing things. You just didn’t give us a chance to show our best side as well as our worst.”

“I saw you, uniting thousands of people and bringing hope back to a world that badly needed it,” the bald elf said with a smile, the first he’d shown since they’d started arguing. “I saw you, a Dalish mage, rise to power in a world that shuns your people and doing it with so much authority that now, when they think you are weakened enough that they can try, the nations of Thedas try to strip that from you.”

“We can disband the Inquisition; I said we would,” Isaura replied with a shrug. This didn’t tempt the rage; she’d thought about this for a while, since Cassandra had told her that the Exalted Council was going to happen. “We can scatter to the four winds, all of us, and yet, if I had Leliana send out her ravens and her nugs, I promise you, the heart of the Inquisition would be back in a heartbeat.” She thought about it. “And possibly _some_ of the nugs; she’s still having trouble with that.”

“And what about those who joined for the glory, for the chance to look down on everyone?”

“That’s one of the reasons _why_ I’m disbanding, Solas. We will _never_ be the hovering threat, keeping everyone peaceful by force. If Ferelden and Orlais want to go back to bickering like spoiled children while Tevinter waits to snap up the loser, that’s fine. I would like to know what happened to the Grey Wardens, and it would be nice to know what happened to the Warden Queen specifically, if only because her husband is far too inclined to leave the hard work to his uncle. But those are personal adventures, and I don’t need the Inquisition for that.”

“And if I tell you that you cannot convince me?” Solas stood, looming over the smaller, weary mage. “If I tell you that I mean to continue this plan whatever the cost?”

“Then I still disband the Inquisition, and we find a way to convince you anyway,” Isaura said, also standing, but slowly. “Are you going to stop this thing from killing me now, or am I going to go home to my husband only to tell him I have so many months to live?”

“I’m not allowed to use the commander for leverage, but you are?”

“Cullen _is_ my husband, Solas,” Isaura replied, amused. “I’m not using him for leverage; I’m asking a question. He deserves better than to watch me die in agony.” Solas closed his eyes and looked away. Isaura sighed. “Look. If I have to fight you, I will. I won’t like it, you’ll kill me, but if I have to to make my damn point, I will. I would _much_ rather go back to my husband and his giant, slobbery dog and finally meet his sisters in person.” She smiled at her friend. “I never really knew you, I understand that, but for the sake of the elf named Solas who is still my friend, I would like to give you a second chance.”

“This is going to hurt,” he warned, taking her hand.

Isaura asked, “Why can’t you do what you did with the _vallaslin_?”

Solas dropped her hand, startled. “How did you— the murals.”

“Your paintings are amazing. I think I should have realized something weird was happening when I realized they are also _everywhere_ ,” Isaura said with an actual smile. “But you did say you traveled a lot.” She nudged him with her elbow. She hadn’t actually forgotten she was standing next to the trickster god of her people, but he was also still just Solas. Besides, calculated risk and sarcasm had gotten her this far. “So?”

“The…corruption has spread too far. I am sorry, Isaura. I didn’t… I had no way of knowing this would happen, but you’re right that this is no excuse.”

“You’re doing that creepy mind-reading thing that Cole does,” Isaura said mildly.

“It’s easier than talking.” Fen’Harel was more present than Solas in that sentence.

“For the record, you seriously need to work on that superiority complex,” Isaura said, and the adamant eyes blinked, turning back to blue and widening in surprise. “We’re _different_ , not _lesser,_ Solas. If I’m not going to put up with that bullshit from Orlesians, I’m definitely not putting up with it from you.”

“How do you manage to be so persuasive and so irreverent at the same time? You make Varric Tethras look like a court jester.” Despite the exasperation in the question, Solas was smiling again.

Isaura chuckled. “It helps that I’m sincere. Varric is as well, but he masks his sincerity with his sense of humor. I use mine to highlight how much I mean what I’m saying.” She shrugged. “It’s worked pretty well so far, apart from the fact that it sounds like I’m about to lose my left hand, which will at least be moderately unpleasant.”

“Um.”

“You know, I never thought the Dread Wolf would say ‘um,’ if I’ve ever thought about having a conversation with him at all,” Isaura said. “Pretty sure I’ve never in my life thought I’d be doing this, though. More than the hand?” She pulled off the red, armored coat she was wearing and rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. Fade-green lines ran all the way to her elbow. “Oh. Well. The whole arm, then?”

“I’m afraid so, or most of it, anyway,” Solas said. “I did not do all of that.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I did when I was blowing things up,” Isaura agreed. “Oh, well. What’s an arm between friends?” When Solas stared at her in shock, the Dalish mage added, “We both know this isn’t going to end any other way than us opposing you, because saving the world is sort of what we do. But you are still my friend, Solas. Never forget that.”

“So you’re going to keep the Inquisition after all, then?”

“Did you miss me saying I was not? Even if I hadn’t already been planning on disbanding, finding out that almost all of the elves in it were spies kinda kills whatever small desire I had to keep it going,” the Inquisitor said matter-of-factly, and the bald elf flinched. “If it makes you feel better, there wasn’t much of that desire left, and at least half of that not wanting either Ferelden or Orlais to think they’ve won this whole stupid thing. Besides, you are completely right about the Qun, and they were a lot of it. I am _so_ glad we got Bull clear of that shit.”

“So who is this ‘we’?” The mage touched Isaura’s arm gingerly, and flinched when she bit back a scream. Under the façade of cheerful sarcasm, Isaura was ashen and terrified. The power she’d been throwing off in the last couple of… days? Had been immense, and it made sense that it had consequences, because everything did. She was also still terrified of losing more than the arm, but she didn’t say anything about it.

Isaura smiled faintly instead of screaming. “Josephine, Leliana, Cullen and I. Who else? We’ve been here since the beginning, and the Inquisition is our lives now. Cassandra would be there as well, but she’ll be busy rebuilding the Seekers and being Divine Victoria.” She managed a chuckle. “Not that she’d let that stop her, so of course Cassandra as well.”

“You had the chance to revolutionize the office of the Divine,” Solas said, prodding again. “A mage as Divine? It would have changed the face of Thedas forever.”

“I _did_ revolutionize the office of the Divine,” Isaura said with a weak laugh. “How many Divines have been their own bodyguards? It’s not like I’m going to stop talking to her, Solas. With her best friend being a mage, Cassandra won’t make the same mistakes that previous Divines did. She reinstated the Circles because quite a few of the mages demanded it, Vivienne not least.” She gave her friend a reassuring grin. “Get it over with, Solas, so Divine Victoria doesn’t tear down the rest of the Crossroads trying to get to me.”

Isaura was grateful, afterwards, that she didn’t remember exactly how it happened. The next thing she did remember was stumbling through the eluvian again, exhaustion, shock, and her other injuries finally catching up with her. “Isaura!” Cassandra said, catching her as the elf toppled. “Are you all right?”

“You found him, did you?” Bull said. “Looks like he won.”

“Sort of,” the Inquisitor replied to both of them. “I think he’s insane, to tell you the truth. The dangerous kind, sure, but we can work with that.” Seeing the worried looks on her friends’ faces, Isaura sighed. “I’d really rather not go into it more than once. Let’s get back to the Winter Palace; I badly need my husband and a drink right now, possibly more than one.”

“Husband or drink?” Varric said. Sobering, he added, “That looks bad, Isaura. Did he have to take the whole arm?”

“What was I going to do with just an elbow? Believe it or not, it’s better than it was,” she replied with a sigh, standing on her own feet again. “Come on, guys. It’s finally over.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my friend Everly, who, over a week of wall-of-text messages on Flight Rising, managed to get me to re-examine why I was so angry at Solas. Isaura got there first, as she does, but I wasn't going to publish this originally because it wasn't what I'd wanted to write. This is proof that I can be persuaded, which would surprise a lot of people; my Inquisitor comes by her pigheadedness honestly. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> EDIT: Title suggestions are still welcome! I hate titling things.


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